


Coffee & Analgesics

by caseyptah



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: F/M, Fluffity Fluff Fluff, SO MUCH FLUFF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-06
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-10-05 06:03:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 12,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17319374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caseyptah/pseuds/caseyptah
Summary: Harry Kim and B'Elanna Torres have remained good friends through their worst and best moments in the Delta Quadrant. What keeps an unlikely friendship like this going? A certain level of philosophical understanding? Or perhaps something more mundane?





	1. Caretaker

**Author's Note:**

> Many, many thanks to CaptAcorn for her wonderful and thorough beta work on this one, and for encouraging me in this whole writing thing.

_Thrum._

Harry Kim perched on the bed in the white and blue room, listening to the low, consistent pulse that seemed to characterize this place.

_Thrum._

His companion, subtle forehead ridges, thick dark hair, was prone on her own bed, just a few meters across from him.

_Thrum._

The alien doctors and nurses had left him to his own devices, departing quickly after settling the Maquis woman, and determining that he was no threat. He had already studied and catalogued the translucent triangles and squares of the wall several times over.

His mind kept winding and unwinding around itself, questioning his previous decisions (should he have helped the woman in her violent escape attempt?), considering his next move (probably should come up with something to say to her when she wakes up), and lamenting his performance so far on his first assignment (this was definitely not how he had pictured this going).  

_Thrum._

Harry sighed.  

_Thrum._

He wished he had been privy to the crew manifest for the _Val Jean_ , wished he knew more about the woman on the bed across from him. If he had just known a little more about her, he might know how to approach her. But he didn’t even know her name.  

_Thrum._

Well, he would figure out a way. If he could just get her to listen to him for a minute, before she started trying to tear that door down again, he could persuade her to work together. Make her see that they would be stronger together, that they were on the same team.  


	2. After Parallax

B’Elanna pressed her fingers against her right temple as she entered the mess hall of _Voyager_ , willing the increasingly painful pounding in her head to disappear on its own. She would rather avoid a visit to that irritating EMH for yet another analgesic.

“Morning, Chief,” a gold-shouldered officer nodded in her direction as he passed by. She returned the nod. What in the hell was his name anyway? B’Elanna was having so much trouble remembering the names of her engineering team. She was having so much trouble with everything, drowning in Intrepid-class engine schematics during the day, and trying to brush up on Starfleet protocols in the evening. She was barely a week into her tenure as chief engineer, and the stress and strain had not let up. She knew complaints had been filed about her. She was under pressure to get the engines in order _and_ build an efficient team.

It all reminded her of her second semester at the Academy, performing brilliantly in Advanced Warp Mechanics in the morning, just to turn around and fail the midterm in Interstellar Ethnology that afternoon.  

The social situation on _Voyager_ was no better than the Academy either. The _Val Jean_ had been a small ship, but a busy one too, with a high turnover rate. Despite what the Starfleet crew assumed, many of Maquis had barely had a chance to be introduced before the beginning of their last supply run, right before they had been pulled into the Delta Quadrant.  B’Elanna still wasn’t completely sure what Henley’s first name was, and the few Maquis that she could count as friends were rarely in the mess hall at the same time as her.

It was all overwhelming: the learning curves, the constant scrutiny on a ship full of human Starfleet academy graduates, stumbling over protocol, the uncertainty. The fact that she was trapped on this ship indefinitely.  

She had come to the mess hall this morning for coffee, well before alpha shift, and was surprised to find the place already bustling. She searched the crowd for a familiar Maquis face, only recognizing Tabor sitting alone in the corner. B’Elanna made her way to the replicator, ordered a cup of coffee, and continued weighing her desire for an analgesic to combat today’s headache. That’s when she had heard a voice cut through the din of the mess hall.  

“Maquis! Hey! Over here!”

Harry Kim was beckoning from a table in the center of the mess hall. B’Elanna hesitated, mostly out of habit, but especially when she saw Harry’s dining companion, Lieutenant Tom Paris, who raised his eyebrows in her direction. She hadn’t had much interaction with him beyond the last three senior staff meetings, didn’t have much interest in doing so. The man was practically dripping with bravado, a narcissist and possibly a traitor. B’Elanna couldn’t believe that Starfleet was letting himself be seen with that man, but then, it seemed Harry Kim didn’t have very discerning taste in friends. Well, it was probably in her best interest to at least say hi to what was probably her only Federation ally at this point.

“Starfleet,” she acknowledged him as she approached him.

“You want to sit down? Aren’t you getting breakfast?” Harry asked, pushing out an empty chair for her.

“I don’t have time,” she said, accepting his proffered seat although it went against her plan for this particular social interaction.  “I was going to review the protocols for maintaining the gel packs before alpha shift started today.”

“The gel packs already giving you trouble?” Paris asked over his own coffee cup.

“Just brushing up,” she said quickly, not wanting to discuss her Starfleet deficiencies with this man.

“Oh! My senior thesis at the Academy was on bio-neural circuitry system,” Harry said.  “I can help you with that. The protocols seem really strange at first, until you figure out the reasoning. I worked with Professor James on my thesis.”

“Professor James?” B’Elanna asked. Should she know that name for some reason?

“Shoka James. She was on the Utopia Planitia engineering team that invented the bio-neural circuitry. She taught a special course on it at the Academy my senior year.”

“That’s why Ensign Overeager here got this fancy assignment as head of operations on _Voyager_ right out of the Academy,” Paris smiled at B’Elanna as he said it.

B’Elanna narrowed her eyes in Paris’s direction, disliking both his overfamiliar mannerisms, and that he felt it necessary to explain that to her.

“I didn’t know you were the local bio-neural circuitry expert,” she said to Harry.

“Oh not really. Ashmore was in the same class, and the concept was introduced in some of the advanced engineering courses in the years before that,” Harry blushed as he spoke. “Don’t listen to Tom.”

“Not a problem,” she muttered. Ashmore! That was his name.  

“Anyway, we should look at that protocol manual together,” Harry continued.  “Do you want to take a look now? Alpha doesn’t start for forty minutes.”

“Um, not now,” she said. “I need to stop by sickbay for an analgesic before I head down to engineering. If that medical hologram is as long-winded as he was last time I was in there I’m going to be late for alpha.”

“You know, you should try to have something for breakfast,” Harry said. “You can’t run an engineering department on just coffee and analgesics.”

“It worked for me on the _Val Jean_ ,” she replied.

“Oh is that the key to success? Coffee and analgesics? I’ll have to remember that,” Harry grinned. “Okay then let’s meet for dinner tonight after alpha shift and go over the maintenance protocols.”

Tom Paris snorted.

“Sure,” B’Elanna said. “I’ve been working late, though, so maybe we can meet at 1930?”

Paris was openly gaping now.

“Good, it’s a date,” Harry said.

“Okay, thanks, Starfleet,” she said, rising from her chair. “I’ll see you then.”  

B’Elanna made her way through the tables, stopping at the replicator for more coffee before she left. She could hear Paris starting into Harry at the table behind her.

“Jeez, Harry, what, do you have a thing for unobtainable women or something?”

“What are you talking about?”

“We’ve been in the Delta Quadrant for not even two weeks and you’re already throwing yourself at the the most intense woman on the ship.”

“Throwing myself? It’s not like that, Tom,” Harry said.  “She’s a friend. I like her. We’re friends.”

“Uh huh, sure, and what’s with calling her Maquis? That is not a way to a woman’s heart.”

“Who said anything about her heart?”

“Harry, Harry, Harry...”

B’Elanna was out of earshot now, leaving through the main mess hall door, smiling to herself.  

If only Harry knew, and he clearly didn’t: she had only started calling him Starfleet because she had immediately forgotten his name back on the Ocampa planet. By the time she heard his real name again he was already referring to her as ‘Maquis’ and she was referring to him as ‘Starfleet’ and, well, they just hadn’t stopped.


	3. After State of Flux

Alone again. This was not a new feeling.  

B’Elanna paused in the corridor outside of the mess hall, unsure of herself. It had been only a few days since Seska’s traitorous turn, and she was finding that she was uncertain about many things lately.  

She had always thought herself an excellent judge of character. She and Seska had bonded almost instantly aboard the _Val Jean_. Seska’s icy sense of humor and intensity rivaled her own, but somehow they clicked. How much of that was an act?

Her only consolation was that nobody had suspected Seska. Not Janeway and her penetrating gaze. Not Tuvok, who had had his own secrets on the _Val Jean_. Not even Chakotay, Seska’s erstwhile lover.

“Oh, hey B’Elanna!”

Speaking of people not to be trusted.

“Hi,” B’Elanna said quickly, as Tom Paris stepped out of the mess hall and into the corridor next to her. She was not unhappy to see him. B’Elanna had worried that Harry had made a huge mistake, throwing his social lot in with Tom Paris early on, but Paris was witty and fun, and was way less of an asshole than she had expected. They had worked well in a group setting, and she and Seska had even begun to form a minor clique with Tom and Harry, but now…

“Maquis!” here was Harry Kim coming up behind Tom Paris. Surprise surprise. They were as bad as the Delaney sisters, always together.

“We didn’t know you were coming,” Tom apologized.  

The three of them and Seska had been on alpha shift the week before Seska had left, and had been sharing a table at breakfast. B’Elanna had gone into hiding the last two days, using rations for most of her meals. This would be her first attempt at eating in the mess hall since Seska’s departure.

“We thought you were back to running engineering on coffee and analgesics,” Harry joked. “We’ll go back and sit with you while you eat. Right, Tom?”

“Sure,” Tom shrugged.

“Come on, Tom was just telling me about this magic trick that Tricia does…” Harry continued. Both men had turned around and were heading back into the mess hall.

B’Elanna had been searching her mind for an excuse to avoid the situation. She did not want to be a third nacelle with these two. But then they hadn’t really given her a choice, had they?  

She was in, whether or not she wanted to be.  

Well. This was a new feeling.  


	4. After Learning Curve

“So, are you surprised they did it?” Harry asked the dark-haired woman sitting across from him. They were occupying a small table in the far corner of the mess hall, working together on next month’s maintenance objectives for their respective departments. The dinner rush was mostly over, and the sounds of crashing pans in the kitchen punctuated the low conversational murmur that surrounded them. It was late, and his mind had begun to wander away from their shared task and toward the gossip of the last week. 

“Who? Did what?” B’Elanna didn’t even look up from her PADD.

“Are you surprised they passed Tuvok’s class?” Harry persisted.

“You’re asking the wrong person.”

“Why? You’ve known the Maquis longer than I have.”

“I couldn’t make it past the second year at the Academy,” B’Elanna reminded him, still making quick notes on her PADD rather than meet his eyes.  “I’m damn lucky I didn’t get pulled out for Tuvok’s class myself.”

“When are you going to let that go, anyway?” Harry asked, frowning at her. 

“What?” B’Elanna finally looked up at him.

“The fact that you didn’t graduate from the Academy,” he said. Harry knew they were entering perilous conversational territory here, but he was feeling bold. 

“It’s history, Harry, it’s a fact. You don’t let go of facts.”

“I don’t know, I definitely don’t remember that you’re an Academy dropout, except when you remind me.”

B’Elanna squirmed at the word dropout.

“Anyway,” Harry continued, “you’re way past that now. Everyone is. Think about it - when’s the last time you heard anyone mention Caldik Prime or the penal colony?”

B’Elanna appeared to consider this. 

“And you know why? Because Tom stopped talking about Caldik Prime, stopped treating himself like an inmate, so everyone else did too. You’re the chief engineer, you’re head of the biggest department on the ship and the most efficient one too. You’ve earned the right to stop thinking about your Academy status, Maquis.”  

“Don’t compare me to Tom Paris,” B’Elanna warned, but her tone was warm. She set down her PADD and stood with her tray.

“Are you getting seconds?” Harry was surprised. The grub rub meat had been terrible. 

“Yeah, it wasn’t that bad, and I’m still hungry.  All I’ve had all day was—”

“Coffee and analgesics. I know.”


	5. Before Non Sequitur

The console at Ops beeped insistently, and the intraship messenger program flashed for a second. Harry perked up, eager for the distraction. It was almost 2345 hours, and he was nearing the end of the most boring beta shift in the history of beta shifts. He wasn’t quite sure who would be awake and messaging him right now, but was very eager for the diversion. 

_ Lt.BT: Okay, seriously, what is this crap? _

_ E.HK: What? _

_ Lt.BT: Faraway Strangers. This book you recommended. _

_ E.HK: I love Faraway Strangers. It made me want to join Starfleet. Did you get to the second stranger yet? _

Harry waited several minutes for a response, scanned through the systems status icons on the other screen a few times, waited some more. Wondered if B’Elanna had fallen asleep while reading. 

_ Lt.BT: I don’t think I can read this. _

_ Lt.BT: Sorry. _

_ E.HK: That’s okay. I know not everybody loves fabulism. You should recommend something for me though. What do you like to read? _

_ Lt.BT: I don’t really have good taste in books.  _

_ E.HK: What does that mean? _

_ Lt.BT: I just think we have different taste. _

_ E.HK: Well what do you like to read? It can’t be that bad.  _

_ E.HK: Because I’ll read anything. _

_ E.HK: Well maybe not fanfiction.  _

_ Lt.BT: Ha. _

_ E.HK: Seriously, what do you like to read? _

_ E.HK: B’Elanna? _

_ E.HK: What is it? Westerns? Romances? _

_ E.HK: Even better - Klingon romances? _

_ E.HK: Wait, is it? Am I right? I’m right, aren’t I? _

_ Lt.BT: I hate you. _

_ E.HK: Are you serious???? _

_ Lt.BT: This stays between us. _

Harry couldn’t stop himself, his laughter erupted across a very, very silent bridge.  

“Everything okay, Ensign?” Chakotay turned to look to Harry back at Ops.

“Sorry, Commander,” Harry choked out. “Just an… inside joke. Sorry.”

“At ease, Ensign,” a smile turned up the corners of Chakotay’s face, and he turned back to his own console. 

_ Lt.BT: Seriously, this isn’t something everyone needs to know.  _

_ E.HK: I just laughed out loud on the bridge and got a look from the commander. _

_ E.HK: I won’t tell. I promise.  _

_ E.HK: You know you shouldn’t feel ashamed of what you read. _

_ Lt.BT: I’m not ashamed.  _

_ Lt.BT: I’m private. _

_ E.HK: I might have to check some of this out. Where is it in the database? _

_ Lt.BT: It’s a sub-filter under the Klingon tag.  _

_ Lt.BT: Here, I’ll send you a good one.  _

_ Lt.BT: But don’t say I didn’t warn you.   _

_ Lt.BT: I don’t know if you can handle it. _

_ E.HK: I can handle it. _

The intraship messenger program beeped to let him know a file had arrived for him. 

_ E.HK: I’m going to stay up all night reading this one. _

_ E.HK: Lots of coffee before alpha shift tomorrow. _

_ Lt.BT: And analgesics. You will definitely need an analgesic after reading this. _

Harry was careful to keep his laughter to himself this time. 


	6. Before Dreadnought

“To be fair, the man died, was born again as a salamander, kidnapped the captain, had—”

“Okay, okay, you don’t have to say it,” Harry cut B’Elanna off. They were in Sandrine’s playing pool, just the two of them. B’Elanna chuckled to herself at Harry’s discomfort, knowing that she was perhaps getting a little too much joy recounting the previous week’s incident. It hadn’t been funny at the time, of course, but now...

“I’m just saying,” she said, leaning in to line up her shot, “it’s not like he doesn’t have reason to be laying low and acting weird.”

Harry screwed up his face, waited for her to take her shot.  

B’Elanna grunted with approval as the eleven ball ricocheted perfectly into the corner pocket, exactly according to plan. She looked up at Harry but he was staring vacantly into the center of the table. Had he even noticed her perfect shot?

Harry had been very worked up about Tom’s behavior recently, and Harry’s reaction was starting to get on B’Elanna’s nerves. Not only that, but her own disappointment regarding Tom’s absence was pissing her off too. Tom Paris was like that annoying noise the plasma injectors in the  _ Val Jean _ used to make. B’Elanna couldn’t stand the noise, could never get the injectors tuned just right to make it stop. After a few months of this, just when she thought she might lose her mind, the noise stopped, for no apparent reason. And suddenly the  _ Val Jean _ engineering bay was so quiet she could hardly stand it.

Harry was silently lining up his own shot now.

“He’s probably just busy, too,” B’Elanna added.  “Maybe he doesn’t have time for breakfast right now.  Maybe he’s running the helm on…” she drew out the pause, waiting for Harry to finish the sentence.

“Coffee and analgesics,” Harry added, but his smile was empty. “I know, I know. I just can’t shake the feeling that something’s not right, and he’s not talking to me about it.” Harry took his shot, and stood.  

B’Elanna wanted to roll her eyes, but couldn’t. Harry’s concern for their friend was undeniably heartwarming. Amiable, loyal Harry Kim, stuck now and forever with the two biggest screw-ups on the ship as his best friends. This level of concern would feel overly saccharine on anyone else, but Harry was so earnest, he was starting to appeal to B’Elanna’s very underdeveloped sense of sympathy.  

“I know you’re not the biggest Tom Paris fan…” Harry started.

B’Elanna snorted in amusement.

“...but maybe you can check in with him too,” Harry said. “Maybe he’ll respond to you for some reason.”

“Because I’ll break his arm if he doesn’t?” B’Elanna offered.  

“Whatever it takes, Maquis,” Harry said.


	7. After The Chute

B’Elanna hesitated outside of Harry’s door for a long time after signalling twice for entry and being ignored.

She knew he was in there, knew he probably wasn’t doing very well at all. If it had been her, she would have done the same, barricaded herself behind her own distress, all communication on lockdown.

“Harry? It’s B’Elanna,” she called into the cold metal of the door. No answer.

She debated her options, shifted the items in her hands around while she thought. It would be so much easier to just turn around and go back to her own quarters, let Harry come out when he was ready.

Her friendly check-in on Tom Paris earlier this morning had been much easier, somehow. She had started there, knowing that she wouldn’t have to wonder what to say to him - Tom was very skilled at keeping a conversation going all by himself. In fact, she had stayed in his quarters far longer than she had intended, listening to Tom spin the tale of their imprisonment. Despite his elegant storytelling, and characteristic bravado, B’Elanna sensed that he was more unnerved by the entire experience than he wanted to let on.  

If the charmingly nonchalant Tom Paris, who had weathered a great deal of unpleasantness in his adult life, was having a hard time with this, imagine what the experience had done to Harry.

“Harry, I’m not going to take no for an answer,” she shouted into the door, having finally chosen her course of action. She used her free hand to press the keypad one more time, demanding entry.

The door surprised her with its sudden sideways slide. She hadn’t even heard Harry give permission for her entry.  

“Harry? You okay?” her words diffused into the darkened quarters as she entered.    

“Ugh, what time is it?” the prone figure on the bed grumbled.

“It’s 1030. Computer, lights at 20%,” B’Elanna moved toward the bed, setting down her offerings on the bedside table. Harry rolled over, squinting in the low light. He still seemed slightly battered.

“Welcome back, Starfleet,” she said, perching herself on the edge of his bed.

“Sure, yeah,” Harry buried his head, and his words, in his pillow.  B’Elanna narrowed her eyes at the back of his head.

“I heard it was bad,” she offered.

“You have no idea.”

“I heard about the clamp.”

“Ugh.”

“I heard you got to be the hero this time,” she said carefully.

“Did you talk to Tom?” Harry looked up.  

“Yeah, I did,” she crossed her arms, holding Harry’s eyes.

“Did he tell you…” Harry trailed off, looking away.  

“Well, he talked non-stop for about forty minutes, so yeah I heard all about the Akritirian prison, and his childhood experience at sleepaway camp, and all about the time his cousin taught him backgammon…” B’Elanna was waiting, but Harry’s laughter was not forthcoming. She let the silence spread for a moment, waiting to see if Harry would offer something up.

“Harry, I am sorry,” she finally said. “It sounds like it was terrible. Did I mention I’m glad you’re back?”

Silence swallowed the room again, and B’Elanna desperately cast about for something to say, wishing she had prepared herself more for this. This did not come naturally to her. What the hell would Chakotay say if he were here?

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked.

“I think… I think I may be in over my head,” Harry said.

“What do you mean?”

“Starfleet, _Voyager_ , Ops, the Delta Quadrant, being a senior officer, going on away missions, hell I can’t even go on shore leave without getting convicted of a terrorist act,” he said.  

“Harry, this was one time—”

“No, it’s not just one time. I’m in over my head, B’Elanna, with everything. Everything here on _Voyager_. It’s like I spent the first half of my life making all the right decisions and now I can’t make a good decision to save my life. Literally.”

What would Chakotay say, damn him? B’Elanna tried to conjure him up.

“This doesn’t sound like you, Harry. Isn’t it my job to be the pessimist here?” she asked. Damnit, she had conjured Tom Paris instead.  

“Well, maybe I’m not the same Harry Kim I was when we first got here.”

“That’s true,” she said. “We’ve all changed since we got here. Everyone on this ship has. Except maybe Tuvok. Haven’t you said that to me before?”

“Maybe some of us are changing for the better, and some of us aren’t,” Harry sighed.

“Harry—”

“Just go, Maquis. I’m sorry I’m such a downer right now. Thanks for checking on me, but I need to be alone.”

B’Elanna sat in silence for a few moments, weighing her options.

“Fine, I’ll go,” she finally said, standing up. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re back in one piece, even if it’s a pitiful piece.”

“Thanks,” he whispered.

“And I’m going to check on you again tomorrow before I go on shift,” she said, before she could think better of it. Sure, why not double down on her utter failure to comfort her friend?

“Okay,” he agreed.  

“Oh, and I brought you some coffee…”

She waited. Silence expanded to fill the room, until a very small voice whispered out from under the sheets.

“And an analgesic?”

“You know it.”

Harry chuckled very, very quietly from his protective barrier under the covers.


	8. After Macrocosm

“I thought you said you weren’t good at chess,” Harry said.

“I didn’t say that. I said it wasn’t my game,” B’Elanna replied.  Her elbows were on her knees, her hands supporting her chin, eyes focused on the chess board laid out between them.  

“Well, you just responded to my Evans gambit with the Carlsen defense.”

B’Elanna just shrugged. She had no idea what Harry was talking about, but there was no way she was going to fall for that little trap he had just set with that pawn. Now Harry was sulking. Sulky Harry was not her favorite version of Harry, and he had been embracing the sulk more often these days.  

“Yes, well, it’s my diet of coffee and analgesics that makes me an excellent chess player.  You should try it,” B’Elanna said.

Harry didn’t even respond to their little inside joke, he was so focused on the black and white squares between them, and the pieces inhabiting them. They were in his quarters, no music, complete silence. A little too silent if you asked B’Elanna, but Harry had insisted, had also insisted that they play this game in the privacy of his quarters so the other tournament players wouldn’t observe his strategy. B’Elanna had rolled her eyes, but agreed. He was taking next week’s chess tournament awfully seriously, but she was willing to play the role of supportive friend in this instance.

She had been trying more often to be a more supportive friend, had been sensing that Harry was a little down, not quite recovered from whatever had happened at the Akritirian prison. He was perking up a little now lately, but seemed to have lost some self-confidence, and was turning down many social invitations. B’Elanna had found herself spending more and more time unexpectedly alone with Tom Paris. So when Harry had proposed a game of chess, just the two of them, she had readily agreed despite her disinterest in the game.  

Harry was taking a long time thinking about his next move, jiggling one leg up and down, narrowing his eyes over and over again at the pawn that had failed him. B’Elanna sighed.

“Why didn’t you get Tom to play this with you? Doesn’t he play chess?” she asked, trying a little too hard to sound nonchalant, she thought.  

“What? Tom? Oh, I didn’t even ask him,” Harry was still deep in thought regarding his next move.  

B’Elanna leaned back into Harry’s couch, stared at the ceiling for a little bit. This game was going to take much, much longer than she had originally anticipated. It was kind of cute how seriously Harry was taking this tournament, but she also knew he was never going to win it.  

She made a note to casually bring this up with Tom, see if he would play with Harry instead. She didn’t have the patience for this game, never had. Not when her father had taught her to play at age five, and not the one time she played a game with her roommate at the Academy, and not when Chakotay and Ayala had kept inviting her to play them on the _Val Jean_. Chakotay was such a glutton for punishment.

Harry’s door beeped suddenly.

“Damn,” he muttered, finally deciding to move his knight before yelling “Come in!”

The door slid open to admit Tom Paris, PADD in hand, admittedly dashing grin on his face. How did he always manage to look so smug and handsome at the same time? B’Elanna’s jaw clenched.

“What’s up, Tom?” Harry said, finally taking his eyes off the game.

“Training for the tournament, I see,” Tom said, approaching the board. “B’Elanna, I didn’t know you played.”

“I don’t really,” she tried not to growl the words at him. “I’m doing Harry a favor.”

“She’s just helping me brush up my skills,” Harry said. “Did you need something, Tom?”

“Actually I’m here to see B’Elanna.”

B’Elanna panicked at the warmth rising in her cheeks, pretended to be focused on the chess board in front of her.

“What is it?” she asked.

“I’m just curious about one thing,” Tom said, and then plopped himself down on the couch right next to her. His leg was touching hers. Did it feel like electricity to him too? Or was that just her?

“Can you explain this to me?” Tom held the PADD out to her. She took it, scanned the contents, and handed it back.

“I don’t think that needs an explanation,” she said, crisply. Tom laughed, and she was sure he was still grinning although she refused to look at his face.

“What is it?” Harry asked, clearly irritated both at his declined Evans Gambit, the interrupted game, and that his friends were keeping him in the dark about the subject of the PADD.

“I was reviewing the bets placed on the chess tournament,” Tom said. “I noticed an awful lot of bets on one person.”

“Oh yeah?” Harry perked up.

“It’s not important,” B’Elanna said, reaching out and sliding her queen in front of her king.  “He’s just trying to distract you, let’s keep playing. It’s your turn again.”

“Who is it?” Harry said, now completely ignoring B’Elanna and the chess board.

“Mike Ayala,” Tom said. “He has sixteen people backing him to win the tournament, all former Maquis.” Tom turned to give B’Elanna a meaningful look.

“Ayala?” Harry said. “Wait, B’Elanna did you—?”

“Just play the game, Harry,” B’Elanna snapped.

“B’Elanna bet on you for second place, Ayala for first,” Tom said.

Harry looked so hurt. B’Elanna punched Tom in his arm, and tried to ignore that weird electric feeling again, and the flush that was starting to spread to other parts of her body.

“I thought the bets were confidential,” she hissed at Tom.

“Ow! Sorry, I’m just interested why Mike Ayala has so many backers. What the hell were you guys doing on the _Val Jean_ anyway?” Tom asked.  

“Who else has bets on me?” Harry asked, ignoring the pointed glare B’Elanna was giving to Tom.

“Well that’s confidential.”

“Come on, Tom.”

“Okay, you’ve got five backers for winning the tournament, but I won’t tell you who they are,” Tom said.  Harry smiled at that.

“Can we get back to this game, please?” B’Elanna said. “If we keep going at this pace, we’ll be here all night. It’s your turn, Harry.”

“Oh I see, the game is too slow for you,” Tom said. “Some of us like a slow game.” He placed a hand on her knee as he stood, letting his fingers linger for just an extra half second than they needed to. B’Elanna shivered. “I’ll let you two get back to it,” he continued, making his way back to Harry’s door. “See ya at breakfast.” Harry was already absorbed in the chess game again, oblivious to his friend’s words, and to B’Elanna’s inner turmoil as she attempted to control her physical response to Tom’s touch. The door closed behind Tom, and B’Elanna felt herself finally breathe again.

“B’Elanna?”

“What?” she hadn’t realized she had been staring at Harry’s door this whole time.

“It’s your turn,” he said, narrowing his eyes just very, very slightly at her. She would pretend not to notice that.

“Okay,” she turned back to the board, quickly castling, building up the defensive strength around her king. She had always been best at defense.   


	9. After Displaced

“Don’t worry about getting the triplets just right,” Sue Nicoletti was saying.  “I think as long as you’re hitting that F sharp each time it will sound fine.” 

“I never did like triplets,” Harry sighed.

They had transformed holodeck one into one of the music studios at Starfleet Academy, as was their habit during practice sessions. It was a small room, wooden floors, large windows facing out toward the San Francisco Bay. A black grand piano loomed nearby. Sue and Harry were standing side by side in the center of the room, oboe in one set of hands, clarinet in the other.  

The Doctor had asked Harry to accompany him at his next recital. This was the kind of request for which all the best musicians on  _ Voyager _ kept a prepared list of excuses. But Harry had found himself with more and more free time on his hands lately, and had readily agreed. When he told Sue, she had asked him if he had lost his mind. Harry had just shrugged, noted that he had a lot of free time these days, and then asked if she wouldn’t mind helping him to prepare.  

What was the saying his father used to use? Slowly and then all at once? Harry couldn’t recall in what context his father used to use that phrase, but that’s exactly how his social life seemed to have dried up. It had taken him a painfully long amount of time to figure it out, immersed as he was in his own misgivings about his performance as a Starfleet officer, meditating on his failures. He had looked up one day and realized there were hardly any after-dinner invitations to Sandrine’s anymore, and no impromptu sessions puzzling out some engineering problem on the weekend. 

About a month ago he finally realized what was going on, and, after his initial surprise, well, then it made sense all at once.

He wasn’t angry. Happy for them, yes, a little disappointed, yes. But it seemed like their lives were moving forward, improving with every light year  _ Voyager  _ traveled in the Delta Quadrant, while his life got more and more off track.

Well, for now at least, the Doctor’s exacting musical standards were keeping him busy, and he had an excuse to spend a little more time with Sue, whom he enjoyed.  

“Let’s start back at measure thirty-four,” Sue said. “The Doctor won’t be here for twenty minutes, and think we can have this fixed by then.” Harry raised his clarinet again, when the holodeck arch appeared and the doors slid open.

B’Elanna Torres walked in, tall boots, brown pants, a red and gold shirt that was showing quite a bit more skin than Harry was used to seeing on his friend. She was carrying a carafe in one hand, two cups in the other.

“I brought you coffee,” B’Elanna said, setting the carafe and cups down on the grand piano in the corner.

“Oh,” Harry said, surprised to see her. 

“I was just in sickbay and the Doctor reminded me of the concert tomorrow and was complaining about something or other with the music. I remembered you said this morning that you and Sue were having your last rehearsal tonight. I thought you could use some coffee.”

“No analgesics?” Harry asked.

“Couldn’t get the Doctor to turn his back for long enough,” she said, smiling. Harry smiled back. Sue just watched them both.  

“Where are you headed?” Harry asked, nodding toward her outfit. 

“Oh, um, Tom invited me to this new program he has. The Trefi Fountain or something?  There was some historical thing he was all excited about. I… said I would check it out. I’m due in holodeck two now, actually.”

“Okay, thanks for the coffee,” Harry said. “Have fun at the fountain!” She raised her hand in response, disappearing around the door and into the corridor of Voyager. The door slid shut behind her.

Whatever her response may be if one were to ask her about her relationship status with Tom Paris, there was no denying B’Elanna had a new, happy glow that he had never seen on her before.  

“Measure thirty-four? You ready?” Sue was holding her oboe to her lips, expectantly.  Harry shook off his train of thought. 

“Yeah,” he said. Bringing his clarinet upright, Harry wished that he was still the kind of person who could just be happy for his friends without also being disappointed for himself. 


	10. Before Vis a Vis

Harry Kim usually didn’t mind the Jeffries tubes, at least not for the first couple hours.  He wasn’t prone to claustrophobia like a few of his crewmates, didn’t mind the isolation. Even the Jeffries tubes that paralleled the main plasma conduits below engineering, which tended to run a little hot, bothered him less than most.  

Today, though, he was squeezed into a Jeffries tube on deck six with a companion who was trying her best to make the entire thing a miserable experience for both of them.  

“I can’t fucking get this,” B’Elanna Torres snapped at the coupling in front of her. “How the hell did you get this out the first time anyway?”

“It’s amazing what you can accomplish when you have a Hirogen rifle pointed at your head,” Harry said. “Here, let me try.”

B’Elanna muttered something to herself, but moved aside to give Harry access to the coupling. She offered him the wrench in her hand, but he pulled out a larger one from the open toolkit on the Jeffries tube floor instead. She sneered at his choice. She was really in a sour mood today. Harry didn’t think he had seen her crack a smile since the day they had successfully freed themselves from the Hirogen.

“You know, we’re almost done,” he commented, hooking the wrench into just the right spot before applying pressure. “I know it’s been bad, but we’ve almost got the ship back to how it was before the Hirogen turned it into a hunting club.”  

B’Elanna wasn’t even trying to hide her scorn for everyone and everything.

“There,” Harry said. He had freed the coupling easily. “You want to reconfigure it and I’ll put it back?”  

B’Elanna took the item from his hand, used the socket tuner from the toolkit to gently sweep the coupling. Harry waited, patiently, watching his angry companion.

“So, not enough coffee and analgesics this morning, huh?” Harry quipped. B’Elanna stopped was she was doing, stared at the coupling in her hands for just a few moments.

“Sorry, Starfleet,” she said. “It’s not you.”

“I don’t think it’s just the power coupling either,” Harry said.

“I’ll give you one guess.”

“Tom Paris.”

“Tom Fucking Paris,” she growled.

“What’s he up to now?” Harry asked, already dreading her reply. He knew exactly what was going on. Tom had been up to his elbows in some new program on the holodeck recently, and B’Elanna, who had been drowning under a rather harsh repair schedule, was probably just now noticing her boyfriend was missing in action.  

“Who knows? Some new holonovel or something,” she practically spat the words. “He’s barely said two sentences to me in the last couple days. I’m actually getting some time off tomorrow, and he won’t commit to anything.” She had finished with the power coupling and handed it back to Harry.

“Well you know Tom, easily distracted by all things shiny and new,” he regretted it as soon as the words came out. He was putting the power coupling back in place now, was expecting a burst of angry sentences out of her, but looked out the corner of his eye and could see she was silently considering the Jeffries tube wall.  

“B’Elanna,” Harry said, cautiously.  

“What?”

“Are you... worried?”

“I’m not _worried_. I’m annoyed.” She rearranged the contents of the toolkit while she spoke. “Okay, fine, I am worried. And I’m annoyed that I’m worried.”

“You don’t like him having that power over you,” Harry offered.

She glared at the toolkit and nodded silently, clearly uncomfortable making that admission.

Harry had finished replacing the power coupling, and used the larger wrench again to start gently tightening it into place.

“Well,” he said. “I don’t quite know what to tell you. Tom has always been easily distracted by new projects. And he may be an idiot—”

“Definitely an idiot,” B’Elanna agreed.  

“—but he’s the loyal kind of idiot, and he’s your idiot,” Harry continued.  “He’ll be back, probably crawling on his hands and knees, begging for forgiveness.” B’Elanna smiled at that, briefly. “But,” Harry continued, “I do think sometimes Tom needs to be called out on his bad behavior, because he doesn’t notice it otherwise. If you tell him how you feel, I’m sure he’ll try to change.”

“I doubt it,” B’Elanna scowled. “He likes his independence, and his free time. If I try to cut into whatever this project is, I’ll just start a fight.”

“Yeah, but he likes you more than he likes his free time,” Harry said. B’Elanna appeared skeptical. “You know,” he said, an idea coming to him. “I just got that Orion puzzle matrix from Sue yesterday. I haven’t started it yet.”

“I heard her and Vorik talking about that,” B’Elanna said. “Somehow it’s three-dimensional and two-dimensional at the same time?”

“I think there are several different ways to put it together, but only one right way.”

“I can’t imagine it’s that hard,” B’Elanna scoffed. “Chell did it.”

“I heard it took Chell four days. Supposedly Joe and Will did it in an hour. I bet we can beat that. My quarters? 1900 hours? Or mess hall.”

B’Elanna was considering it. “I don’t know…”

“Come on, what else are you going to do anyway? I know you’ve blown through all the Klingon romance novels in the database.”

B’Elanna glared. Harry just grinned.

“Fine,” she finally agreed. “1900 hours, your place.”

“Great,” Harry moved to the side to put away the wrench in the newly-organized toolkit while B’Elanna slid in next to him to examine and activate the power coupling. Harry was pleased with himself, having just acquired both an edge in the informal Orion puzzle matrix competition, and some time with his friend, even if that friend was in a foul mood.

Although the betting line on their eventual breakup was hot, Harry’s instinct was that these two were in for the long haul. Whatever was going on right now, they would work it out. He might as well take advantage of this little speed bump in their relationship, get some quality time in with B’Elanna while he had the chance. Maybe he could even talk her into a weekly puzzle or board game night, while she was still at loose ends. Damn, when had he gotten so opportunistic anyway?


	11. Before Extreme Risk

“Hey, Maquis! Wait up!”

B’Elanna didn’t slow her pace through the corridors of deck six. She was on beta shift today, but had been unable to sleep past 0700. She had laid awake in her bed, staring at the ceiling, willing herself to find the energy to get up and get some work done, or to go work out, or take a look at her intraship messages. Her energy stirred only when it occurred to her to see if the holodeck was empty. The computer affirmed that holodeck two was currently unoccupied, and that news had propelled her into the sonic shower, into her uniform, and then out into the cold, grey corridors of Voyager. The shift change had just happened, and the corridors were busier than she liked. She kept her head down, focusing on the carpet at her feet.  

“B’Elanna! Hey!”

Harry Kim slowed his pace to match hers as he caught up with her.

“Hey, what are you doing on deck six?” 

“I thought holodeck two was empty, but Sharr has it in use now,” she said.

“Oh yeah, Renlay and I just got off gamma shift,” Harry said, slightly out of breath from running to catch up.  “Hey, you must be on beta shift today? I was going to change and then have breakfast. Want to meet in the mess hall in ten minutes?”

“No,” she said, flatly. “I can’t.”  

“Come on, we could have the breakfast of champions, coffee and…” Harry paused, waiting for her to finish the punchline.  

“I’m just going to take a nap, Harry, thanks,” B’Elanna said as she quickened her pace.  Deep inside of her she felt a pang of guilt. Harry had been seeking her out more and more recently, asking if she was free for lunch, offering up holodeck time together. Had Tom said something to him? She had been avoiding Tom too. She knew it, but couldn’t exactly figure out how to fix it. Anyway, it wasn’t her job to take care of everybody and make them feel good. 

Harry could take the hint, and he stopped following her, letting her disappear around the corridor. She was retreating, heading back to her quarters on deck nine, hoping she wouldn’t run into anyone she knew, hoping Harry would understand and stop following her like a little lost puppy.  Hoping nobody would demand anything of her until she went on shift later. Hoping that her defenses stayed strong. 


	12. After The Disease

He had surprised her in her quarters, and now Tom’s hands were around B’Elanna’s waist, pulling her against him. He kissed her, deeply, rubbed his five o’clock shadow across her cheek, eliciting a happy exhalation from her.

“I missed you,” he breathed into her ear.

“It’s been like eight and a half hours, Tom,” she said.  

“It feels like forever when I’m way up on the bridge all day and you’re eleven decks down in engineering. And when you don’t take a lunch break.”

“I know, I’m sorry, the plasma constrictors. I didn’t get a chance.”

“I have extra rations since I won that bet with Chapman,” he ran his fingers through her hair as she started to pull away from him. “Want to come to my quarters for dinner tonight?  We’re not working tomorrow, we can stay up late and—”

“Can I take a rain check on dinner? I was going to go visit Harry,” she said. “How’s he doing anyway? Did you check on him this morning?”  

“Not great,” Tom grimaced.

B’Elanna had pulled away from Tom and was now searching through the pile of PADDs on her table.

“What are you looking for?” Tom asked.

“Oh I remembered this book I thought Harry might like while he’s stuck in his quarters. I downloaded it last night, but now I can’t find it.”

“You know if you would keep your PADDs in some sort of order...”

“I know! I know! My quarters are never going to be a shining example of Starfleet protocol like yours are, oh wait, here it is,” she grabbed the correct PADD, and started back toward the door of her quarters where Tom was still standing.

“Do you want me to stop by your quarters after I’m done at Harry’s?” she asked.  “Maybe spend the night?”

“I don’t know… if I have dinner with Tuvok in the mess hall tonight and the conversation gets too interesting I might not be able to pull myself away…”

“Try to not get too captivated,” B’Elanna rolled her eyes and kissed him quickly before they parted ways in the corridor.  “I’ll see you in a little bit.” She turned down the passageway toward the turbolift that would bring her right next to Harry’s quarters. Tom continued on his way in the opposite direction, headed to the turbolift to deck two and the mess hall.  

B’Elanna was nervous as she approached Harry’s door. She hadn’t seen him since they had parted ways with the Varro two days ago. Tom had checked in on him at least twice now, and B’Elanna was again anxious about her ability to play the supportive friend.

“Come,” Harry said quietly from beyond the doors, when she signalled for entry.

“Hey, Harry,” B’Elanna said. Harry was sprawled out on his small couch, a pile of PADDs abandoned on the coffee table. He was out of uniform, wearing some sort of loose grey robe.  

“Hey, B’Elanna,” Harry made an attempt to sit up. She held up her hand, indicating he should stay where he was.  

“I brought you this,” she handed him the PADD.

“A new Klingon romance novel?” he raised his eyebrows.  

“Wouldn’t that be a little much right now? It’s a science fiction novel Sue recommended to me. The first half is good, but the tech in the second half is completely implausible, and I couldn’t finish it. But I thought you might like it.”

“Thanks, I think?” Harry smiled weakly.

She walked over to his replicator.

“Have you had dinner yet? I thought we could have dinner together. My treat,” she said, pausing as she scrolled through the list of his favorites on this replicator.

“I haven’t eaten anything all day,” he said.

“Not even coffee?” she asked.

“Well… the Doctor did give me an analgesic a couple hours ago…”

They both smiled. B’Elanna was relieved to see it.  

“How about this ravioli thing?” she asked.  He shrugged. Fine, ravioli it was. She ordered up two from her account, and brought the steaming bowls over to his coffee table, pulled over a chair so she could sit across from him. They both picked up their forks.

“What about Tom?” Harry asked.

“What about Tom?”

“Shouldn’t you be with him? It’s Friday night.”

“Tom’s fine,” she said. “I’ll see him later. I wanted to see you tonight.”

Silence. B’Elanna wasn’t quite sure how to follow up that statement, wasn’t sure how to better express her concern for Harry. And she wasn’t used to feeling so awkward with him either. They both focused on their ravioli for several minutes.

“I just…” Harry started. B’Elanna stopped moving her fork, waiting for more to come out of him.  

“I’m just starting to think maybe Tom is right about me. I only go after women I can’t have,” Harry said. B’Elanna put down her fork. “I go after women I can’t have, and I make plans for a life I can’t have, and I end up stranded in the Delta Quadrant, as an ensign for almost five years—”

“Harry—”

“—and I just don’t see it getting better for me. Nothing goes according to plan. Somehow I mess it all up, and things only get worse.”

“Listen to me, Harry,” she said. “Your entire theory is based on the faulty assumption that Tom Paris could possibly be right about something.”

That brought a smile to Harry’s face.

“You didn’t bring this on yourself,” she continued. “It was a bad situation. Bad luck. What were you supposed to do? Just not fall in love? You don’t get to choose who you fall in love with. I’m living proof of that.”

Harry’s smile grew a little wider. B’Elanna was feeling more confident in her Harry-comforting skills.

“You know I’ve always admired your ability to ignore all the negatives in a situation,” she said.

“What?”

“You’re optimistic,” she said. “I’ve always admired that about you.”

“Not that it’s helped me much,” he sighed.

“Well you’re not as naive as you were when we first got here,” she said. “But that’s different. You still see the good in all people, you still find the light in a situation. Deep down, I know you do.”

“Maybe I don’t want to be that way anymore,” he said.

“Maybe you can’t change it,” she countered. “Maybe you shouldn’t.”

Harry seemed to consider that for a few minutes.

“You and Tom seem really happy, lately,” Harry finally changed the subject.

“Yeah,” she said. “I think we are.”

“Hasn’t always been the case,” Harry added.

“I know,” she agreed. “But it keeps getting better. I don’t know how.”  

“I hope I can say that someday,” Harry said, sadly.

“You will, Starfleet. I know it. Now eat your ravioli. You don’t have it in you to live on coffee and analgesics alone. And when you’re done I’ll tell you about the shit that went down between Harren and Ashmore yesterday.”


	13. After Pathfinder

“I can’t believe it,” Harry was saying, his grin so wide B’Elanna wasn’t sure how his face hadn’t split in half.

“I’m not sure I do,” she answered. They were walking down the corridor on deck eight, headed toward astrometrics.

“This is it, B’Elanna,” Harry continued, as if he hadn’t heard her at all. “They found us! I heard them myself on the bridge! Lieutenant Barclay and Admiral Paris, loud and clear over the comm system.”

The name Paris pricked at B’Elanna’s heart. She hadn’t had a chance to catch up with Tom, or send him a message yet. She wondered what he was thinking, how he was feeling.  

“This doesn’t mean we’re going to have regular communication, just yet, Harry,” B’Elanna warned, slowing her pace as they rounded the corner and approached the door to astrometrics. Engineering had buzzed with joy as news of contact with the Alpha Quadrant spread quickly across the ship. B’Elanna had noticed Joe’s eyes were a bit wet, and even impassive Vorik had an air of jubilation about him. It made her happy to see them happy, although the occasion also served as a reminder of how little she had to look forward to in the Alpha Quadrant. Her mother, almost certainly dead. Her father, long absent from her life. And how would this affect Tom? He had thrived in his time away from his family. She was feeling a little overprotective of Tom, wanting to shield him from the heat of his disapproving father.

Still, if an antidote for her own negativity existed, it was surely an exuberant Harry Kim.

The door to astrometrics slid open. Seven was already displaying the new schematics and technical details sent from Pathfinder on the large astrometrics screen. She turned at their entrance, acknowledging their presence with a single nod, before bringing her attention back to her console.

“So, Seven, what do you think?  How complicated is this new hypersubspace technology?” Harry asked. 

Could he be more happy right now? B’Elanna didn’t think so.

“I have reviewed the suggested modifications,” Seven said. “We lack the raw materials to begin work on several of the proposed alterations. Their technical data for our deflector array is flawed, as they were not made aware of our recent upgrades. Their hypersubspace theories are also flawed, and require correction.”

“So… how long do you think?” Harry asked.

“Several months at least, and that is assuming we are able to fix the deficit in their hypersubspace theory, acquire the raw materials we need in a timely matter, and develop an alternate plan for the deflector array.”

B’Elanna was standing on the other side of Seven, but could see Harry’s face lose a few shades of joy. She opened up the screen on the console below her, quickly scanning through the information from Starfleet.

“Were you hoping for a more efficient timeline, Ensign?” Seven asked Harry.

“Well, I thought maybe a week… just to get things going…” he said.

“The issues with the deflector array data can be managed,” B’Elanna said, still scanning the document. “This doesn’t look like something Vorik can’t handle. He’s been working with that deflector array for years now. He can find a workaround to get these changes implemented.”

Seven raised an eyebrow in B’Elanna’s direction.

“The rest of this is just going to take time to figure out how to reconfigure our systems without causing some sort of cascade failure,” she concluded. “We can put in some late nights this week and next, and probably get most of it figured out.”

“All we’ll need is coffee!” he brightened as he said it.

“And analgesics,” B’Elanna added, reflexively. 

Seven of Nine gave B’Elanna a quizzical look, which was ignored. 

“What about the raw materials?” Harry asked.

“That is the major hurdle,” B’Elanna agreed.  “But now that we know what raw materials we need, it shouldn’t be a problem to find them. Thermium is abundant in many kinds of systems. Isn’t that right, Seven?”

“Correct,” Seven was still giving B’Elanna a questioning look.  

Harry was beginning to look hopeful again. B’Elanna almost rolled her eyes, stopped herself. He was such an open book, every emotion, good or bad, on full display for the world to see. Maybe that was why they’d always gotten along so well, she never had to guess where she stood with him, or what he was thinking. She always knew.

“Maybe I’ll be able to send my dad a letter for his birthday,” he said, gazing hopefully at the screen in front of them. “It’s in three weeks.”

“Your desire for efficiency is commendable,” Seven of Nine stated. “I suggest we start here, with Starfleet’s suggestion that our power cells can be remodulated to carry a higher load…”

B’Elanna was only half-listening now. Her own characteristic apprehension threatened to overwhelm her brain, her mind bouncing from the Paris family to her own fractured family and back to her and Tom’s unknown legal status in the Alpha Quadrant. She wished she could collect Harry’s enthusiasm, use it to build up another wall inside of herself, something to keep the trepidation at bay. It didn’t work that way. It had never worked that way.

The least she could do was prevent her own darkness from overtaking his light. That part, at least, usually worked.  


	14. After Collective

“Deck two,” Harry ordered, as he stepped into the turbolift, having just handed off the bridge to Commander Chakotay. He was exhausted from another long night on the bridge. He was glad for the command experience he was getting on gamma shift, but would be happy when the schedule changed next week and he went back to alpha shift on ops. His bridge crew was great, but Ensign Sharr was on helm for gamma shift this week, and Ayala on security, and between the two of them and Harry’s own quiet nature it was a very silent eight hours on the bridge. He would be happy to be back at ops next week, listening in on Chakotay and Janeway’s conversation, and trying not to laugh at Tom’s vaguely sexual double entendres, which Tuvok always took note of with a very, very raised eyebrow.

The only good thing about gamma shift this week was that B’Elanna was taking her turn on gamma as well. She hadn’t been very busy, judging from her quick responses to his intraship messages.

_ E.HK _ :  _ How’s engineering? _

_ Lt.BT: Remind me to never to give myself gamma shift with Chapman again. The man cannot shut up. I’m hiding upstairs at my command console just so I don’t have to hear his awkward stories about his one trip to Risa. _

_ E.HK: That’s better than up here. Sharr and Ayala haven’t said a word in hours. _

_ Lt.BT: Trade? _

_ E.HK: I highly doubt you would take that trade. _

_ Lt.BT: Probably true. I can’t be that far away from the core. That’s why my quarters are on deck nine. _

_ E.HK: LOL right _

_ Lt.BT: Be nice to Sharr, though. I want her to trade shifts with Tom next week so we can have a day off together.   _

_ E.HK: Oh yeah? Big plans? _

_ Lt.BT: No, just we seem to have been on opposite schedules for a while. _

_ Lt.BT: I miss him. _

_ E.HK: You two are so cute. _

_ Lt.BT: Shut up. _

_ E.HK: I mean it. You are. I’m sure Sharr will trade. I’ll butter her up. _

_ Lt.BT: Thanks. I owe you coffee.  _

_ E.HK: And an analgesic. _

_ Lt.BT: Definitely.  _

His gamma shift now complete, Harry was planning to grab a quick breakfast from the mess hall before he fell asleep. But when the turbolift doors opened on deck two he found his friend, Lieutenant Tom Paris, pressing his body against his other friend, Lieutenant B’Elanna Torres. They were deep into an embrace, and Harry caught a glimpse of Tom’s hands far, far lower on the chief engineer’s back than they should properly be while the two of them were in uniform.  

Harry looked away, as quickly and gracefully as he could under the circumstances, and wondered if he should just order the turbolift doors to close. Tom noticed him, though, and withdrew his hands from their adventuring, pulled away from B’Elanna.

“I’ll see you tomorrow morning,” he gave B’Elanna a semi-chaste peck on the lips, then turned to the turbolift. He gave Harry a sheepish grin.

“Sorry, I’m late for my turn on the bridge,” he said, stepping around Harry and into the turbolift.

Harry turned to look at B’Elanna, who was self-consciously straightening her uniform, and smoothing her hair.  

“Don’t tell me,” Harry said, holding up his hands to stop her excuse.  “Opposite schedules, I know.”

She grimaced, her version of an apology in these circumstances.

Harry laughed. Some things would never change.

“Want to grab some breakfast with me before we pass out?” he asked.

“Sure, Starfleet.”


	15. After Drive

B’Elanna set down her coffee to scroll through her PADD, looking for the notes Joe had added about the replacement manifold components. It was the middle of the dinner rush, and the mess hall reverberated with the sounds of laughter and storytelling and jokes. Captain Kathryn Janeway perched on the couch opposite B’Elanna, PADD in one hand, coffee in the other. Every few minutes, without fail, someone would stop to greet the captain. Both women had smoothly carried on their conversation, about materials acquisitions priorities, around each interruption.

“I think this one’s for you,” Janeway nodded toward B’Elanna, just as B’Elanna felt her husband’s lips stealing a quick kiss on her cheek. He was behind her, leaning over the back of the couch. 

“Sorry to interrupt, Captain,” Tom said, addressing Janeway.

“Not a problem, Tom,” Janeway smiled broadly at the couple. 

“Do you still have parrises squares with Harry tonight?” Tom turned to B’Elanna. 

“Yeah, in thirty minutes.”

“Okay, take it easy on Harry,” Tom said, a gleam in his eye. “We’re playing Proton tomorrow and I don’t want my Buster recovering from a sprained ankle while we infiltrate the Inexhaustible Portal of Infinity. There’s a lot of action in this chapter, and some slime.”

The previous several years with Tom Paris had given B’Elanna many opportunities to practice her affectionate eye roll, and she executed it perfectly now. Tom just grinned, nodded a farewell at the captain, stood, and walked away, greeting Ensigns Sharr and Jenkins on his way toward the kitchen counter.

“Sounds like Harry Kim has the busiest social schedule on the ship,” Janeway commented with a wry smile.

“Well, Tom does like to joke that we have split custody of him,” B’Elanna said, eyes back on her PADD. “He’s not entirely wrong.” 

“I used to see the three of you in the mess hall together all the time,” Janeway said. “That’s not going to change now that you’re…” Janeway motioned to the shiny new wedding band on B’Elanna’s finger.  

“Oh no, of course not. We just have different interests. I don’t like hockey or Proton, Tom and Harry do. Tom doesn’t like escape rooms or parrises squares, but Harry and I do.”

“You know, B’Elanna, you could consider giving Captain Proton a try,” Janeway suggested, mischievously. B’Elanna raised her eyebrows and the captain chuckled. 

They turned their attention back to their work, discussing each material on the acquisitions list. The interruptions from various members of the crew continued at regular intervals. B’Elanna was making notes on her PADD when Harry approached. 

“Hey! Parrises squares in twenty minutes, Maquis! Or did you forget?” Harry Kim had come up next to B’Elanna. He acknowledged the captain with nothing more than a nod. How far he had come from his days as Ensign Overeager. 

“Almost done here,” she replied. “I’ll be there on time.”

“Good, I want to win at least three games before our time runs out,” Harry declared. 

“I’m winning all those games, Harry,” B’Elanna narrowed her eyes playfully at him. “You better stock up on analgesics now.” 

“Well I better go have a coffee too, because we all know that’s the secret combo,” Harry added. Janeway looked bemused.

“Whatever it takes, Starfleet,” B’Elanna said.

“Alright, see you in twenty, Maquis,” Harry said, departing with a wave to the captain.  

“What were you…” Janeway started to ask, coffee mug in her hands frozen on its journey from the table to her face.

“Inside joke,” B’Elanna said. “And I honestly can’t even remember how it got started.”


	16. After Friendship One

“Are you checking up on me?” B’Elanna’s form had become more imposing with the progression of her pregnancy, even when dressed in a light robe, as she was now. Harry averted his eyes as discreetly as he could.

“Well, Tom may have said something about you being alone in the evenings while he’s on beta shift this week…”

“That man. The baby isn’t even due for four more weeks,” she gestured in exasperation, turned and went back into her quarters, neither inviting Harry in nor sending him away. Well, he had promised his best friend that he would check up on B’Elanna tonight, and he was going to keep that promise. He stepped into Tom and B’Elanna’s new quarters. He had been here many times over the past nine months, but not recently, and he noticed the furniture had been moved to accommodate a small crib at the foot of the bed. The _bat’leth_ on the wall was new too, but the vintage TV was the same, silent in the corner. PADDs were strewn across the couch and coffee table, keeping company with a half empty glass of water and a dirty bowl. So this is what a pregnant B’Elanna’s night in looked like.

“Since you’re here, you can help me with something,” B’Elanna said, easing herself onto the couch. She started pawing through the pile of PADDs, and Harry took that as an invitation to sit as well.

“Let me guess… loading up Klingon romance novels for maternity leave?”

“No, I’m still working out the maintenance schedule for while I’m gone,” B’Elanna said. “I also can’t figure out what’s going on with the warp coolant chamber. The isometric layer has been off by point six microns for weeks now. Can you take a look at these numbers?” She handed him the PADD she had finally located.

Harry scanned through the data.

“Nothing stands out to me, but I can review this later if you want,” he said.

“Thanks,” she said. “I know I won’t really be gone that long. And it’s not like I’m going to be on another planet, but I want things to go smoothly while I’m on leave, and I thought…”  She had trailed off, but there was no need to finish that sentence. She had thought Joe Carey would be there to take care of her warp core while she and Tom were taking care of their new baby girl.  

And that was why Harry was actually there, not because she was nearing her due date or because her husband was working the evening shift all week. But because she had suffered a loss very recently, and, outside of the engineering staff, it was likely only Tom and Harry who were aware of just how deeply this loss was being felt. And in how many ways.

“I know,” Harry said, simply.

B’Elanna sighed, and placed a hand on her belly, which seemed even more prominent now that she had settled back into the couch.  

“I keep thinking about the _Paq’batlh_ , the part about welcoming death as an honorable friend when it comes,” she said. “My mother loved that verse and I’ve had that phrase bouncing around in my head since I was a kid. Honestly there were some years of my life where it made a lot of sense, when I would have welcomed death if it meant that my life would mean something.”

“But not anymore,” Harry completed her thought.

“And it could have been Tom,” she continued, her voice edged with anxiety and grief. “It could easily have been Tom instead. I’ve worried about him on away missions before, or up on the bridge during a battle, and I know he worries about me too.” She paused and pressed her hand against her distended abdomen. “It’s just… death seems to have a higher cost now. A cost I didn’t see or feel before.”

Harry frowned. They had seen their fair share of death on Voyager in the last seven years. Some had been more difficult to bear than others. It was clear to him that this one was the hardest so far for B’Elanna. Perhaps the first time she had felt a death quite so poignantly, so personally. He had felt this way before, had grappled with loss, struggled with it. Was this then one of those rare situations in which he had more experience than she did?

“You have a lot to live for now, Maquis,” he said. “A lot of people to mourn for if they die. Your life has changed. Isn’t that a good thing?” She frowned at him. “If you could go back in time,” he continued, “and take yourself off the _Val Jean_ so you don’t get stuck out here in the Delta Quadrant, would you?”

“And are you trying to comfort me here or just make me agonize over all my life choices?” she said, narrowing her eyes at him. “You know I wouldn’t change this, change the last seven years.”

“Just trying to offer some perspective,” Harry smiled and put his hands up in mock surrender. B’Elanna stared at the wall thoughtfully for a few moments, her hand still on her belly.

“What about you?” she asked.

“Me what?”

“Would you go back in time and re-assign yourself to another ship? Avoid this whole mess in the Delta Quadrant?”

“And miss out on seven years of leola root? No way!” he teased. B’Elanna reached out and punched his arm, gently.

“No, serious question,” she said. “The Delta Quadrant hasn’t exactly been a pleasure cruise for me, but anybody with half a brain can see that my life has improved out here, mine and Tom’s. Of course I wouldn’t want to take back the last seven years. But what about you?”

Harry had to think on that. It was a premise he hadn’t considered in ages now. He stared at the grey TV screen, and mentally scrolled through his list of accomplishments and activities and milestones from the past seven years. Unlike B’Elanna, he hadn’t learned the give and take of a long-term romantic relationship. Unlike Tom, he had no redemption story to tell. Unlike Tuvok, he hadn’t been promoted. Unlike Seven of Nine, he had not rediscovered his humanity.

“If you had asked me in the first couple years we were out here, I would have said yes,” he finally said. “I would have given almost anything to go back in time and get myself off _Voyager_ and out of the Delta Quadrant. And then the next couple years I was pretty disgruntled a lot. Sometimes it just felt too hard to fight through the Delta Quadrant. Even just being positive wasn’t enough. I always felt like I was one step behind while everyone else was one step ahead, and dealing with everything better. Like I couldn’t adapt fast enough, and everyone else could. But these last couple years have been good. I think I’ve hit my stride, finally. Being able to write to my parents has really helped. And I’ve learned some things about myself over the years.”

“Like what?” B’Elanna asked.

“That I have terrible taste in friends,” he smiled widely.

Harry had been expecting to be punched for the remark, but instead B’Elanna laughed loudly and appreciatively.

“You do, Harry, you really, really do,” she agreed. “So do you want to hang out with one of your terrible friends for a little? Play a game? Watch a movie?”

“Sure, you bet,” Harry said.

“You want something to drink?” B’Elanna started lever herself off the couch.

“No, no, I’ll get it,” Harry said, putting his hand on her shoulder to stay her. “What do you want? Water?”

“Coffee,” she said. Harry looked at her, surprised. “At 2030?”

“Decaf, you idiot,” she rolled her eyes.

“Poor B’Elanna, no more coffee and analgesics,” he lamented, heading toward the replicator in the corner.

“Oh don’t worry, Starfleet, I think I have lots of coffee and analgesics coming my way soon,” she said, patting her rounded belly pointedly.


	17. Several Years After Endgame

The message arrived in San Francisco late in the afternoon. B’Elanna was reviewing the schematics for the new runabout, a cold cup of coffee teetering on the edge of her workspace, a messy landscape of PADDs surrounding her. The console projection above her desk buzzed at regular intervals displaying messages from Tom. He was relaying the play-by-play of Miral’s soccer game. It was Tom’s turn to take Miral to her early game, and B’Elanna’s turn to catch up on work for an extra hour before she had to pick up Joe from chess club, but she found herself more interested in the soccer field than engine design at the moment.

The console beeped and the projection glowed with a blue tinge; a new subspace message had arrived.

 _From: Harry Kim, Commander,_ USS Accra

_To: B’Elanna Torres, Tom Paris_

_Hey! I wanted you to know before you heard it through your contacts at Starfleet, I’m getting promoted next month, and will be taking command of the_ McMurdo _. I just got the news today. Admiral Janeway is coming out to do the promotion herself._

_Natalia says hi, and Hazel says nothing because she can’t talk yet, of course. I hope Miral and Joe are doing well, and you guys too._

B’Elanna smiled, and composed a quick congratulations to Harry. Good for him. She couldn’t think of anyone in Starfleet who deserved this promotion to command more than Harry Kim.

Thirty minutes later, as she was shutting down her workspace in preparation for her departure, the console pinged blue again with Harry’s subspace response.

 _From: Harry Kim, Commander,_ USS Accra

_To: B’Elanna Torres_

_Thanks! I couldn’t have done it without my two most important accomplices._

An image file was attached, which B’Elanna gestured to open, expecting a cute picture of Harry’s wife Natalia and their new baby Hazel. Instead, a holo-image of a coffee cup and a hypospray expanded to fill the entire projection, and Commander Harry Kim’s hand in the corner, giving a thumbs up.

B’Elanna laughed.  

**Author's Note:**

> This work was inspired by two great Harry & B'Elanna works:  
> The Buddy System by Sareki  
> (everything's gonna be) Fine, Fine, Fine by Byrcca
> 
> I read and loved The Buddy System a few months ago, and still have a key phrase from that one bouncing around in my head. Then I read and was delighted by Fine, Fine, Fine back when it was posted in November and that's when my mind finally started to churn out Coffee & Analgesics. Thank you, Sareki and Byrcca!


End file.
